Bane
New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson’s last Westmoreland bachelor is a navy SEAL on a mission to protect the woman who got away…After five years, navy SEAL Brisbane Westmoreland is back home on his ranch and ready to reclaim the woman he left behind. But when he tracks her to Dallas, he’s in for a shock.Crystal Newsome isn’t ready to forgive Bane for saying he loved her then vanishing from her life. Only now the beautiful chemist needs his protection. As their own irresistible chemistry takes over once again, can Bane keep Crystal safe and convince her they can have the second chance they both deserve?
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Her gaze connected to the most gorgeous pair of hazel eyes.
At that moment Crystal knew it was Bane. She was about to open the door when she remembered the note. Trust no one. But this wasn’t just anyone. This was Bane.
She unlocked the door and stepped back. Soft porch light poured into her foyer as Bane stepped in. He’d always been tall, but the man entering her house appeared a lot taller than she remembered. And he was no longer slender. He was all muscles, perfectly proportioned to his height and weight. And when her gaze settled on his face, she drew in a sharp breath. He even looked different. Rougher. Tougher.
He closed the door behind him and her heart pounded. A part of her wanted to race to him, tell him how glad she was to see him, how much she had missed him, but she couldn’t. Her legs refused to move and she knew why.
For some reason this Bane was like a stranger to her. Had five years of separation done that to them?
* * *
Bane is part of New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson’s The Westmorelands series: a family bound by loyalty … and love!
BRENDA JACKSON is a New York Times bestselling author of more than one hundred romance titles. Brenda lives in Jacksonville, Florida, and divides her time between family, writing and traveling.
Email Brenda at [email protected] or visit her on her website at www.brendajackson.net.
To the man who will always and forever be the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr.
So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath. —James 1:19
Contents
“You wanted to see me, Dil?” Brisbane Westmoreland asked, walking into his eldest brother Dillon’s home office.
The scenic view out the window was that of Gemma Lake, the main waterway that ran through the rural part of Denver the locals referred to as Westmoreland Country. For Bane, this was home. This wasn’t Afghanistan, Iraq or Syria, which meant he didn’t have to worry about booby traps, enemies hiding behind trees and bushes or the boat dock being wired with explosives set to go off the second someone stepped on it. Westmoreland Country was a place where he felt safe. All in all, he was glad to be back home.
Thanksgiving dinner had ended hours ago, and keeping with family traditions, everyone had gathered outside for a game of snow volleyball. Now the females in the Westmoreland family had gathered in the sitting room to watch a holiday movie with the kids, and the men had gone upstairs for a card game.
“Yes, come on in, Bane.”
Bane stopped in front of Dillon’s desk. He knew Dillon was studying him with that sharp eye of his, taking in every detail. And he could imagine what his brother was thinking. Bane was not the same habitual troublemaker who had left Westmoreland Country five years ago to make something of himself.
Bane would be the first to admit that a lot in his life had changed. He was now military through and through, both mentally as well as physically. Since graduating from the naval academy and becoming a navy SEAL, he’d learned a lot, seen a lot and done a lot...all in the name of the United States government.
“I want to know how you’re doing,” Dillon inquired, interrupting Bane’s thoughts.
Bane drew in a deep breath. He wished he could answer truthfully. Under normal circumstances he would say he was in prime fighting condition, but that was not the case. During his team’s last covert operation, an enemy’s bullet had nearly taken him out, leaving him flat on his back in a hospital bed for nearly two months. But he couldn’t tell Dillon that. It was confidential. So he said, “I’m fine, although my last mission took a toll on me. I lost a team member who was also a good friend.”
Dillon shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Me, too. Laramie Cooper was a good guy. One of the best. We went through the academy together.” Bane knew Dillon wouldn’t ask for specifics. Bane had explained to his family early on that all his covert ops were classified and linked to national security and couldn’t be discussed.
Dillon didn’t say anything for a minute and then he asked, “Is that why you’re taking a three-month military leave? Because of your friend’s death?”
Bane eased down in the leather armchair across from Dillon’s desk. When their parents, aunt and uncle had gotten killed in a plane crash over twenty years ago, Dillon, the eldest of the Denver Westmorelands, had acquired the role of guardian of his six brothers—Micah, Jason, Riley, Stern, Canyon and Bane—and his eight cousins—Ramsey, Zane, Derringer, Megan, Gemma, the twins Adrian and Aidan, and Bailey. As far as Bane was concerned Dillon had done an outstanding job in keeping the family together and making sure they each made something of themselves. All while making Blue Ridge Land Management Corporation, founded by their father and uncle, into a Fortune 500 company.
